


Atonement's A Bitch

by beer_good



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beer_good/pseuds/beer_good
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faith returns to Sunnydale in season 7 to fight the good fight. She just needs to convince people to trust her... which isn't easy when you don't even trust yourself. A series of missing scenes retelling the end of season 7 from Faith's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2 Kool 2 B 4-Gotten

**Title:** Atonement's A Bitch  
 **Author:** Beer Good  
 **Word count:** ~12,000 altogether  
 **Warnings:** References to canonical deaths, apocalypses, abuse, and other stuff  
 **Pairings:** Canonical for s7, but focus is mostly gen.  
 **Rating:** PG13, possibly edging into R for violence

 

 **Chapter 1: 2 Kool 2 B 4-Gotten**  
 _Missing scene from the Angel episode "Salvage"._  
  
Cold water.  
  
Faith held her face underwater until stars began dancing in front of her eyes and then a few seconds more before pulling up, gasping for air and catching a glimpse of herself in the little mirror by the sink in her cell. She still felt the adrenaline pumping from the fight; it had been a while since she’d used her muscles for anything but working out. She had gotten into fights in her first few weeks in the slammer, and when no one managed to take her one-on-one they eventually tried twelve-on-one. She sent most of them to the infirmary and did a couple of weeks in solitary, and in the years after that everyone had stayed clear of her.  
  
And then, out of nowhere, this. Her and Deb had never been friends – Faith didn't have any friends in here – but they'd never been enemies either. Yet Deb had attacked her in broad daylight, waving a big-ass knife and refusing to stop even when it was clear she didn't stand a chance. That wasn't the scary part, though; no, the part that had Faith panicking now was how easy it would have been – how good it would have felt – to just hit her a little bit harder. Not just knock her out, but put her down once and for all. It might have delayed her parole hearing by a couple of years... oh, there's a joke. "Sorry, instead of walking out of here when you're 70 you have to wait 'til you're 73." Not that she'd thought that through at the time; grabbing that barbell and almost smashing Deb's face flat into the ground had been instinct. Holding back at the last second had been... she wasn't sure. But was this really how far she'd come? All this time working on herself, trying to become someone better, and it just takes one little brawl with an overweight car thief to...  
  
 _You're still not seeing the big picture, B. Something made us different. We're warriors. We're built to kill._  
  
Part of her had been relieved when she was convicted of murder, not manslaughter, even if it meant an extra 10 years. "Murderer" was a good word; fair, simple, cut'n'dry. "Slayer" was a word she figured she could go a good long while without hearing again. That wasn't where all her problems had started, but it sure as shit hadn't helped any. She'd fucked up. Great. She was paying for it. Great. She'd probably die of old age before she got to see a vampire again. Great. So fucking STOP the Slayer shit already! She punched the wall hard, and it barely hurt even though the concrete gave under her fist. Yup, superpowers still there. As if last night and this afternoon hadn't proved that.  
  
All Slayers have dreams. Usually, they're not too bad once you get used to them; memories of other Slayers, visions of impending doom, the usual crap. She didn’t know if it was some kind of weird-ass Slayer mechanism or just ordinary psychology, but here's the wicked bit: the dreams got much worse when you didn’t get to sla... kill anything. Still, most of the time they weren't any worse than any other nightmares.  
  
Of course, some of them had been worse than others. B dying, for instance, that had been a whopper; woke her up an hour before lights-on, screaming her lungs out. She freaked out so badly that they had her seeing the prison shrink for months afterwards. Of course, she had never told him shit; what was she going to say? "See, I have this mystical psychic bond to one of the people whose lives I tried to ruin. I betrayed her, she almost killed me for it, I paid her back by stealing her body, and there was this whole... Anyway, she just killed herself, and it felt like I was ripped out of my own head. Like there were two of me and none of me at the same time. I felt her die, I felt her hit the ground, I’m feeling her rot as we speak, and everything in my head keeps screaming it's my fault somehow. So how was your day?"  
  
Of course, Buffy had come back, and it got a bit easier. Back to the same ol' same ol' and once again she could forget about The Slayer and just be a murderer with weird dreams. Until a couple of months ago when the dreams got worse. Every night for weeks on end she had the same vision: young girls being hunted down and killed like cattle. Everything about the dreams seemed to beg for her to do something about it, and she'd woken up a couple of times wanting to yell "WRONG NUMBER!" Didn't they get that she was OUT? Couldn't whatever ran these things leave her the fuck alone? Apparently not, because last night she got the mother of all visions. It had been brief, but crystal clear: a huge cave, filled with thousands and thousands of... she guessed they were vampires, but not like any she'd seen before. Ugly fuckers. And of course, that chant that had turned up in all her dreams lately suddenly seemed to make sense.  
  
 _From beneath you, it devours._  
  
It scared the shit out of her, and she could only hope B, Angel and the others were on their toes. Whatever it was, and as bad as the dreams were, she was glad she wouldn’t have to deal with it. She wasn't a Slayer anymore, she was a murderer, and she was right where she belonged. Four walls, no one getting too close, three squares a day and everything under control. She took a deep breath, splashed some more water in her face and left her cell.  
  
The rec area of her block was just as boring as the rest of this place. An old TV, a couple of couches and tables and a shelf with some games and shit. Games usually require at least two people, so mostly she just watched TV. A couple of girls got up and let her have a couch to herself – funny how no one ever wanted to sit close to her. There was some weird sci-fi show on: a bunch of cows being herded off a space ship, if you'd believe that, into a large green field beneath an open sky. A girl was sitting with the cows, talking to them.  
  
 _"They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see sky and they remember what they are."_  
  
One of the inmates – Joanna, a lifer who had only been here six months and probably wouldn't last six more – sighed longingly, obviously relating. One of the older girls laughed at her. "You know they're being sold for slaughter, right?"  
  
Faith ignored the resulting shouting match and tried to keep watching, only to be interrupted by a guard stepping in front of her.  
  
"Lehane? Your lawyer's here."  
  
She looked up at him. "My _lawyer_? What lawyer?"  
  
"Gee, I don't know, girl like you gotta have a whole team of lawyers, right? Said it was urgent, so move it."  
  
Faith followed the guard to the visiting area – she hadn't been here too often. Angel used to visit her when he had a chance, but then they'd restricted the visiting hours to daytime and he hadn't been by since. That was a year ago. She had no idea who it could be this time, but –  
  
Oh.  
  
Him.  
  
She hesitated – images of blood and violence flashing before her, not visions this time but good ol' fashioned memories – before sitting down to talk to her watcher.  
  
"They told me my lawyer was here to see me. You my lawyer now, Wes?"  
  
"Hello, Faith. How are you?"  
  
It was plain that Wesley didn't want to be here anymore than she wanted to face him, 'cause he sure didn't sound like his fondest wish in life was to work with her again. Not that she could blame him after what she did. And this wasn't the prissy, well-groomed Wesley she'd met in Sunnydale; this was someone who'd gone to the end of his rope and then just been too fucking mean to not keep going. She knew that look. She hoped he hadn't learned it from her.  
  
"We need you."  
  
Oh, please. She got it now. OK, let's go through the motions and then he can go back to Angel and say he tried, she can go back to the spacecows, and everyone's happy and out of each other's life again. "It's Armageddon again. I dig. The last thing you need's me in the mix. Besides, Angel'll come shining through in the end like he always does."  
  
"Angel's gone, Faith. Angelus is back."  
  
It took Wesley's words a couple of seconds to sink in. Once they did, she didn't think it through, just acted on instinct. "Step away from the glass."  
  
As they bolted across the parking lot towards Wesley's car, she absently brushed shards of bullet-proof glass out of her hair and glanced up at the sky. And tried not to forget what she was.  
  
 _Author's note:_ _I borrowed some dialogue written by David Fury, so credit to him along with the usual props to Joss & co._ _Also contains a quote from the Firefly episode "Safe", written by Drew Z Greenberg._


	2. Miles To Go

**Chapter 2: Miles to go**  
 _Missing scene between "Orpheus" and "Dirty Girls"._  
  
After they said goodbye to Angel and the gang, Willow's smile had faded pretty much the second they stepped out of the hotel. The car was quiet as they left LA and got onto the freeway.  
  
Faith felt weird. She'd spent a lot of time thinking of what she might say to Buffy (and never came up with anything good) but sitting here with Willow wasn't something she'd prepared for. She knew the other woman had hated her guts for years – long before Buffy had, even.  
 _You're just a big selfish, worthless waste.  
I wish those council guys would let me have an hour alone in the room with her. If I was larger and had grenades._  
Well, here they were, in a tiny little room for the next two hours, and judging from what had happened in LA Willow might not have grown any larger but she did pack some serious firepower these days. So Faith figured it was probably a good idea to keep her mouth shut –Willow certainly didn't seem eager for conversation – but some things needed clearing up, and there really was no easy way to start. _Oh, what the fuck. Just jump in. Like you always do._  
  
"OK, I'm guessing it's a female someone."  
  
"What?" Willow almost lost control of the car for a second.  
  
"You told Fred you were seeing someone. So was I right about that last time we met?"  
  
Willow didn't answer, just kept her eyes on the road... but she didn't deny it, either.  
  
"Wow. Cool. And to think I was mostly just trying to be mean to... Sarah?"  
  
"It's Tara. Drop the subject."  
  
 _OK, sore spot._ "So we're not gonna do the small-talk thing?"  
  
Willow answered by not answering.  
  
"OK, fine. I'll do the talking. What you said about needing me in Sunnydale... are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, I was in jail for three years before Wesley busted me out, and in all that time exactly one person... well, vampire visited me. Ever. I kinda got the hint."  
  
Willow stared at her incredulously for a second. "Well, I hate to break it to ya, but..."  
  
"Whoah, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. People want to forget about me, I totally get that. And I'm not trying to chicken out. I'm just saying I need to know if you really meant it, or if B's gonna want to slit my throat and shit down my neck the second I walk in that door. Because in that case, I'd rather save all of you the trouble and go back to my cell. The way I figure, the last thing you need right now is someone who'll just open a lot of old wounds."  
  
Willow looked at the slayer again, and saw that she was serious. She turned her eyes back to the road. "OK, the last time I was honest with you you went psycho and pulled a knife on me, but seeing as you just saved Angel's life I guess you deserve the truth. We're up against something that makes everything we've ever fought look like a grumpy kitten, we're probably all gonna die, and we need every fighter we can get. But just so you know..." Willow took a deep breath. "The last person in Sunnydale who even _liked_ you, Faith, turned into a snake and went kablooie four years ago. No one has forgotten what you are and no one will be turning their back on you. You won't have to worry about anyone on our side attacking you first; but there will be plenty of beasties lined up to do that. If you're up for it, that's what you can expect. If not, I'll drop you off at the prison gates right now. 'Kay?"  
  
Faith nodded. "Fair enough." Then she pointed to the neon sign of a diner looming up ahead. "Listen, could we get something to eat first? I haven't had a bite since yesterday, I almost died twice since then and this really isn't something I want to decide on an empty stomach."  
  


* * *

  
"OK, I'm used to slayer appetites, but... damn." Willow nodded at Faith's half of the table, loaded down with dozens of plates with just about everything the diner offered.  
  
"Yeah. Thanks for paying, I'd totally forgotten about... you know... money."  
  
Willow watched with astonishment as Faith started packing away greasy food like a sumo wrestler coming off a diet. "Jail will do that, I s'pose... I hear Stockton's supposed to be really tough. Was it really tough?" That last question sounded way too much like gee-I-really-hope-you-hated-every-second-of-it, but Faith didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Actually, most of the time it wasn't that bad. After I showed some people that I could take care of myself and spent much of the first six months in solitary, everyone pretty much left me alone. All in all, it wasn't the worst three years of my life."  
  
"Sounds downright cosy."  
  
"Except... funny thing about prison, Red: everyone is innocent, no matter what you're convicted for. They got set up by the cops, it was self defense, their lawyer was incontinent..."  
  
"I think you mean incompetent."  
  
"Whatever. I'm just saying I've made enough excuses, you know? The last thing I need is to start telling myself I'm innocent." Faith emptied a bottle of ketchup over a huge plate of fries. "Most of the time it was just... boring. Tons of free time and nothing to do."  
  
"Don't they have a library?" Faith shot her an amused look. "Oh. Right. Sorry."  
  
"Also, you know, being cooped up with nothing but women becomes frustrating..."  
  
"I could think of worse things."  
  
Faith gasped in pretend shock as she raised her second king size Coke. "Was that a joke, Red? Did you and I just share a joke?"  
  
Willow just raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Faith ate, and the waitress topped off Willow's coffee mug.  
  
"So are there any other changes I should know about in Sunnydale? Just so I don't give anyone any more reasons to hate me..."  
  
Willow thought about it. God, three years... a lot of things had happened, most of which she really didn't feel like sharing with Faith. "Just... y'know, demons, government conspiracies, stuff like that..." Then she thought of something. "Joyce died about two years ago."  
  
Faith stopped eating and stared at her. "Wha... Oh shit, I'm really..." She stopped herself as everything came flooding back again, and looked down at her food. _Don't say you're sorry. You got no right. Joyce took you into her home, you almost killed her, and you'll never get a chance to make up for it. Or anything else._ "Fuck it, Re- Willow, maybe this isn't such a good idea. I mean, it's not like I just spilled ketchup on B's favorite shirt or something. It's way too late, I can't... it's..."  
  
"What?" Willow interrupted, raising her voice, then lowering it again when she saw the other guests eyeing her. "Like you lost control and let everyone down? Like you killed people, and then tried to kill the ones who wanted to help you? Like you can't expect anyone else to trust you since you don't even trust yourself, and nothing you say or do will ever change what's happened... am I in the ballpark?"  
  
Faith looked at her, taking it in, then thoughtfully started on her third burger. "So, you too, huh? Lemme guess: none of my business?"  
  
The redhead grimaced, but calmed down. "Not really."  
  
"But you're going back there anyway? Try to be a good guy?" What she really wanted to know was if they had taken her back, but even if she'd thought Willow would answer she didn't think the same rules would apply to her.  
  
"I kinda have to, y'know?" Willow was gazing out the dark window, past her own reflection. "If I don't... then nothing good I ever did matters. The darkness beat me, that's all I was good for... and I never deserved her. I couldn't live with that."  
  
The slayer nodded. For a while, the only sound was that of Faith wolfing down a basket of blueberry muffins. "So you're saying we're all gonna die?"  
  
"Yup, that's pretty much the plan."  
  
"Fine. Long as I don't have to listen to Barry Manilow again, I'm in." Faith finished her milkshake, then sat back and unbuckled her belt. "Man, I'm full."  
  
"You sure? I think they have pie..."  
  
"Nah, I'm good."  
  
"Well... I guess we'll see about that, huh?" Willow offered something that might have been a smile as she got out her wallet and paid the waitress. Faith made sure to walk in front of Willow as they returned to the car. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

  
  
---


	3. Eavesdropping

**Chapter 3: Eavesdropping**  
  
"What the HELL is she doing here?" A few hours had gone by since Willow had showed up with Faith, and since then everyone had been pretty busy. When Dawn finally managed to corner Buffy and Giles in the kitchen she let them have it. "Did you forget who that is? What she did to you, and Angel, and me, and Mom, and..."  
  
"Dawn..."  
  
Buffy didn't have to say anymore than that; Dawn knew what that look meant. It always hurt just as bad, even though she knew her sister meant no harm. _Faith didn't do anything to you. You didn’t even exist. All your memories of her are made up._ Of course, that never made them seem any less real – for her or anyone else. She wondered if it was a sin to hate monks. "OK, but that doesn't change the fact that Faith is a _killer_. She’s betrayed everyone who ever tried to help her, she... Giles?" She looked to the older man for support, but got none.  
  
"Dawn, Buffy's right about this." Dawn didn't miss out on the angry glare from Buffy to her former watcher - _about THIS?_. "People can change, Dawn. Angel did. Willow did."  
  
"Spike did", Buffy muttered.  
  
Giles ignored her. "If there is any chance that Faith can be rehabilitated, we owe it to her to take it."  
  
"Yeah, ‘cause nothing says rehabilitation like breaking out of jail."  
  
"And do you think they could have kept a Slayer in jail for three years if she wanted out?"  
  
Dawn looked down, knowing this was another argument she was going to lose. "Fine. But I'm sleeping with Will and Kennedy tonight." She went bright red. "I-in their room, I mean. With psychoslayer in the house, it can't hurt to have a bodyguard or two."  
  
Buffy blew a gasket. "If you think for one second that I would let her hurt you –"  
  
"Why not? ‘Spike did!’"  
  
Tempers flared up again and voices grew louder.  
  
Out in the hall, Faith couldn’t help hearing every word. She’d tried to find someplace to think, but the whole house was full of teenage girls. At least back in jail she had her own cell. This place was too fucking crowded, she needed to get out of here...  
  
She got as far as the porch and sat down, taking a deep breath of night air before lighting up a cigarette and looking out over the lawn. It was raining – just a slight drizzle, but enough so she was alone out here. This was a good spot. When was the last time she’d sat here? Right, Christmas. Four years ago. The snowstorm that came out of nowhere while she was stuck babysitting... nah, scratch that. She wasn't stuck. She had loved it. Christmas with Joyce and Dawn, eggnog, fireplace, laughter... it had just seemed right, somehow. Like something she would have liked to have. She'd tried to teach Dawn the basics of snowman construction, and then sat right here smoking while the 12-year-old who'd never even seen snow before tried to build one. Of course, the lousy California snow had been to loose for it, and it had turned into a snowball fight instead. She had felt a part of something. It had been a good feeling. And she'd fucked it up.  
  
"So... you're Faith, huh? Heard a lot about you."  
  
Shaken out of her memories, Faith looked up at the potential who'd come out of the house to stand next to her. Great, so much for personal space. "Seems everyone has. Can't say the same though...?"  
  
"Rona."  
  
Faith looked back out at the yard, taking a drag. "Think I can make a pretty good guess what you've heard."  
  
The girl sat down next to her. "Hey, don't be so sure about that. You know, we been talking a lot about you... I mean, you can probably guess Buffy ain't the most popular person around here these days. Thinks she’s some kind of boss and we’re just supposed to follow her orders. At least you've stood up to her. She could use a reminder that she's not the only one who -"  
  
"Stood up to...?" Faith stared at her in disbelief. "Oh man, you so don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"No? So all the hassle about you coming back is about what?"  
  
"I didn't 'stand up' to B. I tried to fucking _kill_ her. Her, Xander, Willow, just about anyone inside that house who’s not lining up to wear my boots when I kick it." She shuddered as she remembered the last time she'd been here, three years earlier. "Shit... you wanna know about ‘standing up’? Dawn told me once she thought I was way cooler than Buffy, that I wasn’t always going on about rules and responsibilities, and that she’d much rather be _my_ sister. Now she hates my guts, you know why? Because when she was 13 years old and about a foot shorter than she is now I barged through that front door, knocked her and her mother out cold, tied her up, held her hostage and told her all about how I was going to start cutting her up in front of her mother if her sister didn’t get here soon. She begged me not to and I _laughed_ at her. You know what that's like for a kid, to have someone you look up to go out of their way to hurt you in every way they know?" Faith put out her cigarette against the porch and got up, clearly disgusted. "You think that makes me, what, Clint fuckin' Eastwood? Think again. I ain’t saying Buffy can’t be a prissy bitch sometimes, but if I see any of you start acting like me, I will put. You. Down. Got me?"  
  
Rona nodded, taking a few too many steps back. "So why...?"  
  
The question hung there unfinished. Why did you do it? Why are you back? Faith shrugged. She was still figuring that out herself. "Sharks gotta swim, bats gotta fly." Turning around to go back inside, she stopped cold in her tracks. The front door was open, and Dawn was standing right in it, glaring at her. She’d heard every word. _Oh man._  
  
Dawn crossed her arms and faced the Slayer, relishing the fact that she was actually the tallest of the two. They stood there for a few seconds before Faith looked down and squeezed past her inside. She made it to the foot of the stairs before Dawn spoke her name.  
  
"Faith?"  
  
She wanted to turn around, but couldn’t. What was she supposed to say? "Sorry"? Yeah, that always worked. Finally Dawn settled for talking to her back.  
  
"You know, if you expect me to just forget about what you did to Buffy or Mom, that’s not gonna happen. But... what happened between you and me, I wanna forget it. All of it, good and bad. Clean slate, like we never met before."  
  
"Look, Dawn... don't think I don't appreciate it, but I'm not sure I should-"  
  
"I just thought that you'd have enough to feel bad about. It's not exactly my favorite memory either, and if you plan on sticking around it's not something I want to be thinking about every time I see you. If you want, we could just decide right now that it never happened."  
  
Faith looked at her. She had grown up a lot. "You did get me pretty good with that snowball, though."  
  
The younger girl shrugged and held her hand out. "Dawn Summers."  
  
Faith looked at it for a few seconds before taking and shaking it. "Nice to meet you. I'm Faith."  
  
"Yeah? I heard a lot about you..."  
  
"Seems everyone has."


	4. Innocent When You Dream

**Chapter 4: Innocent When You Dream**  
 _Missing scene from between "Dirty Girls" and "Empty Spaces"._  
  
It was 3 AM and Buffy couldn't sleep. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s rest, but lately it had been even worse. Rather than spend all night tossing and turning she got up and wandered around the house, stepping carefully over the girls asleep everywhere in extra beds, sleeping bags or just blankets on the floor. Potentials, Slayers-In-Training, Perhaps-Someday-To-Be-Chosen Ones; just ordinary girls, some of them thousands of miles from home, and looking to her to teach and protect them. And many of them might... no, _would_ die before this was over. Even if she had a plan, which she didn’t, the hardline was still this: scared teenagers on one side, near-unstoppable monsters on the other. Hopeless.  
  
She walked past a couple of girls whose names she, for the life of her, couldn’t remember right now. Probably a good thing; the more personal it got, the harder it would be. Buffy had known since she was 15 that she would die young, and accepted risking her own life, but this was different. Sacrificing innocent girls who hadn’t signed up for this? Playing chess – or let’s face it, it would probably be more like bowling – with real people? She didn’t think she had that in her. She wasn’t that hard, that cold. Not like...  
  
She stopped pacing as she found herself standing in front of the one girl in here whose face and name she knew every detail of.  
  
Faith was curled up in one of the easy chairs Xander had brought over from his apartment before he... (no, don’t go there. She couldn’t think about Xander and what she had let happen to him.) The other Slayer had refused a bed – probably thinking no one would have given theirs up for her anyway – but of course ended up sleeping more comfortably than most of the girls in here. Andrew’s speech seemed to have done its job; the only free space in the entire living room was a circle of a couple of feet around Faith’s chair. Whether that was from fear, respect or both, Buffy didn’t know, but she figured it was a good idea not to crowd her counterpart – Faith had had her back tonight, and they’d gotten along reasonably well, but there was no telling how stable that truce was. How stable _Faith_ was, for that matter. Buffy sighed. _This is stupid. Maybe Dawn is right, she can't be trusted... or maybe it's just that **I** can't trust her? Same diff. I can't go into battle looking over my shoulder to make sure she's not getting ready to turn on me, or run away again, or..._ Was that why everything had gone wrong tonight? Had she been distracted because she didn't trust Faith?  
  
Buffy wished she could talk to Giles or Willow about this, but... no. Like everything else, this would have to be her decision. Faith couldn't stay, and she had to find some way to tell her tomorrow. Maybe with a weapon nearby, just in case. But as she turned to go upstairs, she frowned and then turned back and took a closer look at the sleeping brunette. Something was different.  
  
Buffy had seen Faith in a lot of moods over the years. Happy Faith (usually after she killed something), Sarcastic Faith (a lot of that one), Arrogant Faith (not to be trusted), even once – and this was a memory Buffy would never admit to another living soul – Horny Faith. But then there had been Cold Faith, Angry Faith, Insane Faith... and Broken Faith, Humbled Faith. But even when they'd been at their closest (and seriously, that was a one-time thing, heat of battle and stuff, and it wasn’t even much of a thing at all, really) there had been a huge part of Faith she couldn't reach, something she kept walled off. And when all that darkness and hate and self-loathing came out, it had seemed bottomless. Things must have started to go wrong for Faith long before she ever came to Sunnydale. That didn’t excuse anything she’d done, and Buffy still found it hard to feel sorry for her – but she had, sometimes, asked herself if there was something she could have done differently, if there was anything good left in Faith that she could have reached in time.  
  
She looked at Faith again, and saw something she'd never seen before. The other Slayer was in a deep sleep, dreaming, and it seemed to be a good one – not the waking-up-sweaty kind of good, either; a hint of a childish smile on her lips, relaxed, free of worries and hurt, at complete peace. Under all those different faces, behind all those walls was something else... call her Innocent Faith. Buffy had no idea how deep down that one was or what memory she clung to, but she was still down there somewhere, strong enough to hold on. And tonight, at least for a moment, while the others slept, she'd made it up top. She wondered if –  
  
"MOMMY!" One of the potentials cried out in her sleep, and Faith was awake and on her feet in the blink of an eye. When she realized there was no immediate danger she looked questioningly at the other Slayer, but didn't relax. Faith was herself again, tense and fidgety, ready to spring into action.  
  
"What's up, B? We under attack?"  
  
"No, it's nothing, I was just... I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about what's coming."  
  
"Yeah, tell me about it." Faith grimaced as she sat back down and pulled her legs up. " _From beneath you, it devours_. Really gives me the creeps, you know?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Oh yeah. Big creep factor." But as she walked back upstairs, she wasn't so sure she meant that. And just maybe she could get a couple of hours sleep after all. Just maybe she ought to put off that talk she had planned for tomorrow.  
  
Just maybe there was a chance that good things can devour from beneath, too.


	5. Windmills

**Chapter 5: Windmills**  
 _Missing scene from "Touched"._  
  
Faith slumped back onto Buffy's bed. "Huh."  
  
In spite of everything that had happened between them, not to mention the events of the last 72 hours, Giles had felt oddly proud when Faith awkwardly asked him to help her plan tomorrow's mission. When he realized Buffy had only told her the bare necessities, their planning session had extended to a run-through of everything that had happened this year; about The First, about the Slayer line... and about the origins of the Slayer, how the shadowmen had taken a girl and infused her with the spirit of a demon. Now he looked at the shell-shocked expression on Faith's face and wondered if perhaps he should have left the last bit out. "Look, I may have put that the wrong way..."  
  
"No, that's cool." Faith's head was spinning and she stared right through him, swallowing hard. "So I'm a demon. Shoulda known. Kinda explains a lot, you know?"  
  
"Faith, it doesn't change who you are."  
  
She laughed flatly. "Damn right it don't. I mean, I may not be much of a Slayer, but I've killed enough of'em to know that one thing demons don't do is change. No free will, right? They're built to kill and that's all they ever do. If demons could be rehabilitated, me and B would be... vampire therapists or something." And here she'd actually thought that maybe everyone had been wrong... even Wesley. _This the part where you tell me you’ve turned a new leaf? Found God? Inner peace? We both know that isn’t true. You haven’t changed. You can’t. You’re a rabid dog who should have been put down years ago._  
  
"And what about Angel?" Giles briefly considered the irony that he (of all people) was using Angel (of all people) as an example to help Faith (of all people), then pushed it away. "Is that all he ever did?"  
  
"Angel has a soul-"  
  
"So do you."  
  
"Ya think? Gee, what gave it away? Killing people? Running away? Standing by and watching B get kicked out of her own house, and then capping it by running Spike out too? Yeah, I'm just chock full of soul."  
 _(Finally got what you wanted, didn’t you?)_  
Faith sat quietly for a few seconds, wishing she could talk to Angel or even Wesley, but they weren't here. "You know something, G? The other night, after we tried to fight that priest guy and everyone got killed or hurt or..." She took a deep breath. "I slept like a baby that night. I was _happy_. We fucked up and I loved it. I thought I was just that glad to be fighting with you guys again, win or lose... but what if it's just the hellmouth calling me home? Everyone expects me to do Buffy's job better than her, and how the hell am I supposed to know if I'm not just leading everyone to their death? I mean, demon or not, I'm not exactly known for making the right choices..."  
  
"Well, there’s the fact that you're trying." Giles looked at her, surprised himself at how much that meant. Somewhere at the back of his mind his Watcher training urged him to reassure her, to get his soldier ready for battle. He hoped that wasn't all he was doing. "You _have_ changed, Faith. The Faith I knew four years ago would have been ecstatic to be rid of Buffy, and probably wouldn't have thought twice about putting others in danger. You may not want to be the one in charge, but... You could have stayed in jail, yet you chose to come to what is possibly the most dangerous place on Earth right now, and I refuse to believe that you did so because you're evil. I won’t lie to you – merely trying will probably not be enough. But it’s all any of us can do. And if I can help you in any way..."  
  
"Woah, back it up." Faith seemed to realize something. "You tryin’ to be my Watcher again?"  
  
The older man leaned on Buffy's dresser and cleaned his glasses. "Would that be a bad thing?"  
  
Faith got off the bed and paced back and forth. "Look, I appreciate the thought, but... In case you forgot, my track record with Watchers ain’t exactly a hundred percent. I let Kakistos kill Miss Davies, then Miss Post tried to have _me_ killed, and Wesley... God..."  
  
Giles looked at her with alarm. "You don’t mean that Wesley is –"  
  
"Oh, no, he’s alive... if you call it that. No thanks to me, though." Part of her believed that; another part, one she tried to keep quiet, disagreed. _Hell, from the looks of it, you kept him alive. Taught him about pain. Made him a survivor, a monster like yourself._ She slammed that door in her head – for now – and the voice shut up. "I don't suppose you could settle for just being... I dunno, a spotter or something? Just stop me if I take on too much?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I mean, I don't wanna go off fighting any... steel mills or whatever that was you said to B earlier. Sounds wicked hard."  
  
"Windmills," the Watcher automatically corrected. Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he continued. "It's from a book, the story of Don Quijote. He was... an old man who had read too many books and thought he was a hero destined to fight monsters and save damsels in distress. At one point he attacks a windmill thinking it's a giant, and almost gets killed."  
  
The Slayer seemed to take this in. "So the monsters weren't real?"  
  
"Not in that story, no. It was all in his head."  
  
"But they're real here, right?" Giles nodded. There were a few seconds of silence before Faith stretched her back and cracked her knuckles. "OK then. Let's see what we got." She walked back to the maps spread out on Buffy's dresser, looking them over intently as if she was expecting them to give some sort of answer. "Sewer tunnel on the North side is closest so guess we’ll start there."  
  
"Sounds fine. What time shall I tell everyone?"  
  
"How about... around seven?" She fumed at the insecurity in her own voice. _Don't be afraid to lead them_. "Seven sharp. So tomorrow we fight."  
  
"Tomorrow. Goodnight, Faith." Giles offered a brief smile as he headed for the door, then turned back. "And Faith?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You’re doing just fine."

 

_Author's note:_ _Contains some dialogue written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner._


	6. Scar Tissue

**Chapter 6: Scar Tissue**  
 _Missing scene from "Touched"._  
  
Faith flopped back onto the pillow, panting as she came down. "Oh, _damn_. I needed that."  
  
"No kidding?" Robin grinned, starting to catch his breath again. "I think I pulled something."  
  
"Sorry, but... Three years, man. Things get built up."  
  
"And there go my fantasies of what goes on in women's prisons", Robin sighed.  
  
She chuckled. "Hey, I ain't knockin' it, I mean it's obviously working out for Red..." The walls weren't all that thick, and as busy as they'd been they couldn't help but notice they weren't the only ones looking for some release. "It just wasn't for me. Spent most of my time in solitary, if you know what I mean."  
  
Robin hadn't known Faith for long, but it felt good to hear her laugh; he had a feeling she hadn't done that either in a while. The relaxed smile looked good on her – a little too good, maybe. It reminded him how young she was... well, that and the fact that she was lying naked next to him and didn't seem at all embarrassed about it; the way she talked – and the way she'd just done some things to him that _definitely_ weren't in the beginner's manual – he had almost forgotten that he had about 10 years on her, and he didn't consider himself very old. He couldn't help wondering how she'd gotten here, what had happened to -  
  
"See anything you like?" There was an amused tone to her voice and Robin realized his eyes had been wandering a little too obviously, but she didn't seem to mind. Then everything happened very quickly. One second she was lying next to him and he was partly covered with a sheet, the next the sheet was halfway across the room and she was straddling his legs. When he tried to move she playfully pinned him down like he didn't weigh anything. "Uh-uh-uh. Fair's fair, you got your peek, my turn." She sat back, grinning, giving him a thorough appraisal in the faint light of the lamp on the bedside table. "Not bad. You work out? That’s a nasty one you got there, though."  
  
He followed her gaze down past his stomach, not sure if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult, until he realized she was talking about the ugly scar across his thigh. "Yeah. A vampire almost took my leg off with a crowbar once. Not all of us have Slayer strength to fall back on."  
  
"Oh, hey, don't forget the super healing. Without that I'd have one or five of those myself."  
  
Of course, even in this light, he could tell that a life as a fighter had left her with a few scratches. Most had healed so well they looked like she'd had them for a lot longer than she could possibly have been a Slayer, but there were a few that seemed newer. A bitewound on her neck that was sure to leave a mark, and...  
  
"And this one?" He ran his finger over a jagged scar on her otherwise flawless stomach.  
  
"Oh... yeah. That one." Faith grimaced as she let him go and lay back down on her side of the bed, looking down at the scar as if she had forgotten it. "Little present from Buffy. Never healed right for some reason, guess I'm stuck with it. Been meanin' to blame the doctors for that, guess they were too busy trying to keep me from croaking to make it look good."  
  
Robin started and looked up at her. " _Buffy_ did that?"  
  
"Yep. Came into my home with a big-ass knife and stuck it in my belly. _My_ big-ass knife, come to think of it. Put me in a coma for eight months." She shrugged, trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal. "Guess I had it coming."  
  
"Wait, let me get this straight. We're talking about Buffy _Summers_ , right?" Robin still felt like he was playing catch-up.  
  
"Well, yeah, how many Buffys do you know?"  
  
Robin frowned. For all his conflicts with Buffy, he had never really doubted her intentions. "I guess I just thought the Slayer was supposed to be the good guy."  
  
"Oh, she is. It's me who wasn't." When he still didn't seem convinced, Faith rolled her eyes. "Look, it's real simple. Buffy was right, I was wrong. Slayers stop monsters, I needed stopping, she did her job. End of story. Besides, everything healed alright. Water under the bridge. And just because you ended the longest dry spell since I hit puberty don't give you the right to..."  
  
OK; that was it; Robin was officially creeped out. "You’re not a monster, Faith."  
  
"Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that lately", she muttered.  
  
"How old were you?"  
  
"Jesus! What does that..." She got up from the bed and seemed like she was going to just leave him there, before realizing she couldn't very well go running around the crowded house buck naked. She turned back. "OK, so I was seventeen. So what? Old enough to be tried as an adult."  
  
"So you're a kid, you're the Slayer, you've got a huge responsibility and you lose track of the mission." He shook his head. "Believe me, there are worse things that could happen."  
  
" _Lose track_ of...? I killed people!"  
  
"Yeah, but you're still here. Do you know how many Slayers get a second chance?"  
  
"Man, for a high school teacher, you sure seem to think you know a lot about Sla..." Her face fell as an idea seemed to hit her. "Oh no. No. Please don't tell me I just fucked a Watcher."  
  
And so he told her how he had come to know about Slayers, how it had shaped his entire life, and why he was here in Sunnydale right now.  
  
At first, she just stared at him. Then she flopped back on the bed with a hollow laugh. "Your _mother_? Oh yeah, that's what every girl wants to hear right afterwards. Jesus CHRIST, dude, you got issues."  
  
"Yeah, everyone keeps telling me that lately." Robin nodded thoughtfully. "But at least they're _mine_. I don't know everything about you, but I do know this: if you keep thinking of yourself as just a Slayer or just a killer or Buffy's... evil twin, it's gonna eat you up inside. I think there's more to you than that. And sooner or later you're going to have to trust -"  
  
That one struck a nerve. The laughter stopped. In one movement, Faith was up on her knees leaning over him and staring him down, making sure there wasn't any part of her he couldn't see. "You're right – you don't know shit about me, _motherfucker_! 'Inside'? Hey, you been in there and I don't recall any complaints. If all you wanted was another poke you shoulda just said so, I had enough of shrinks in jail."  
  
"Faith, that's not what I..." For a second he thought he'd pushed too far; they both knew she could beat him up without even breaking a sweat, and trust – obviously not something she was used to. Two people who had had to grow up way too fast stared at each other.  
  
Finally she looked away and got up to get the bedsheet. "Look, I'm sorry, it's just... it's late and we've got a big mission in a few hours. I just need to get some sleep." She slumped back onto the bed, pulling the cover over her and then quickly turning around again when he grabbed half of it. "And just what do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Uh... late, big mission, sleep...?"  
  
" _Here_?"  
  
"Well... I suppose I could go downstairs and find somewhere else to crash, of course I'd probably wake up some of the girls you're supposed to lead into battle tomorrow, but..."  
  
She sighed and seemed to gauge the size of the bed before turning her back to him again. "Fine, whatever. Just stay on your side, OK?"  
  
"You're the boss."  
  
It seemed there was some trouble with Buffy's mattress, though, since when he woke up a few minutes before she did, they had both drifted towards the middle and she was curled up right next to him.


	7. Purgatory

**Interlude: Purgatory**  
 _Missing scene from between "Touched" and "End Of Days"._  
  
Red numbers counting down in front of her. _"Everybody get down!"_  
  
The explosion was so loud she couldn't hear it. The feeling of being lifted clear off her feet by a giant wall of air. Flames. Pain. Darkness.   
  
And in the darkness, voices, images, sensations; some hurt, some felt way too good, some pulled her one way, some the other.   
  
Mom. And all the shit that happened to her before...  
  
Power. Strength. Vowing never to get beat down again.  
  
Standing by helpless, watching Kakistos torture her Watcher to death.   
  
Staking the fucker. Spitting on his ashes.  
  
Sunnydale. The gang. B. Thinking she belonged.  
  
Washing Alan Finch's blood out of her shirt. Pretending it came out.  
  
The look on Richard's face when she called him "Sugardaddy". And the flip her heart made when he wouldn't have any of that.  
  
Throwing her knife at the spider, not realizing until afterwards that she'd just saved Wesley's life.  
  
"Sorry, friend, boss wants you dead." No excuses this time. The knife slid in him so easily, warm blood spilling out over her hands.  
  
"You did it. You killed me. Still won't help your boy, though." Using what she thought was her last breath to make sure someone else died. Oh yeah, quite a ride.  
  
"If you're watching this tape, it can only mean one thing. I'm dead."  
  
Running all the way from the airport to the church, needing to believe she could do this. Because it's right.  
  
"You're nothing! Disgusting! Murderous bitch! You're nothing! You're disgusting!"  
  
Cutting into Wesley. Making sure to note his responses; any point that seemed extra tender got extra attention. Shallow cuts. Don't want him to pass out. Make sure he feels everything. "It's not too late to let me help you", my ass. It's way too late.  
  
Angel.  
  
Looking down from the roof at the street below. Much higher up this time. Could get the job done. Buffy behind her, ranting. "Till you got bored with the whole guilt thing, decided to come back to shake things up?" "That's not gonna happen."  
  
Waking up in her cell the first morning. Touching the bars in the window, surprised at how much easier it was to breathe in here.  
  
Trying not to let pride in when Wes introduced her as "Faith, The Vampire Slayer".  
  
"This is all you are? I had heard the Slayer possessed great strength..." The demon was so much stronger than her. "There's no real power here." Then what's left?  
  
Kicking Angelus' ass. Holding back.  
  
"Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything."   
"It hurts."  
"I know. I know."  
  
Sunnydale. The gang. B.  
  
"I pull for the good guys now."  
  
Everyone choosing her. _Her._  
  
"You _have_ changed, Faith."  
  
"You keep looking for love and acceptance from these people, these 'friends' of yours, but you're never going to find it. The truth is nobody will ever love you. Not the way I love you. They'll forever see you as a killer." Standing up to him, although it hurt like hell.  
  
Leading them into battle. The look of awe on Kennedy's face as she took down a bringer. Fighting the good fight.  
  
Red numbers counting down in front of her. Realizing she'd been set up.  
  
 _"Everybody get down!"_  
  
The explosion -


	8. Paved With Good Intentions

**Chapter 8: Paved With Good Intentions**  
 _Missing scene from "End Of Days"_  
  
Funny how Hell wasn't what she'd expected. Everything hurt, no surprise there. But it wasn't that hot, whatever she was lying on was soft and smelled nice, and though her eyes were closed she could tell that the light was... dim. Soft, even. She'd had hangovers where it hurt about a tenth as much to open her eyes as it did now, and she could almost hear the hinges in her eyelids grind rust as she did.   
  
Funny how Hell looked a lot like Buffy's bedroom.  
  
"She's awake. Go tell Buffy."  
  
The voice was muffled, like her ears were full of cotton, but she could hear someone leave the room and someone else move a chair closer to the bed. Then he leaned into her line of sight. Maybe it was just the eyepatch and the 24-hour stubble, but Xander looked tired. Old. "You had us worried there for a while. Seriously, the coma thing? Give it a rest already."  
  
"I keep trying, but..." Faith tried to sit up, but the second she moved at least six different parts of her body screamed at her to lie back down right now and she took their advice. Everything hurt. _Damn, that was some explosion. Thank God for Slayer strength or I would... would... shit._ Suddenly she felt like someone had injected her with two gallons of ice water, and ignoring the pain she sat up straight. "The others. Are they OK?"  
  
"Maybe you should wait-"  
  
He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to lay down again, but she grabbed his wrists. "TELL me."  
  
He sighed, letting go. "Lots of scrapes and bruises and busted eardrums, four more or less seriously hurt counting you... and five missing, presumed dead. Joanne, Liz, Ana, Dominique and Colleen." Xander explained about the übervamps and about how there hadn't been any time to go back to check pulses on the ones who didn't make it out. How Kennedy and Vi had carried her all the way back to the house.  
  
 _Killer_. The room started spinning, the bile rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, fighting to not throw up as all her ideas of redemption and forgiveness swirled away into nothing. Then she slowly lay back down, turning her head away. "They shouldna..."  
  
"Sorry, what was that?" She didn't answer. "This wasn't your fault, Faith. It was a trap, anyone else would have made the same-"  
  
"Says you."  
  
"Says Buffy."  
  
"What the fuck does B know. She's as much a demon as me." He so didn't get that. "Oh, Giles didn't tell you? Turns out Slayers are demons. Enough to get people killed, anyway."  
  
Xander blinked and looked at her for a few seconds, then slowly nodded to himself. "Now that really does explain a lot." Her face darkened, but he waved it off as ge got to his feet. "I meant about me, not you. Something about me being a magnet... Not important. Besides, that's a crap excuse anyway. You don't get to back out this time."   
  
There was a vicious bite to his words and Faith suddenly found herself wanting to punch his righteous face in, but a few broken ribs begged to differ. " _Excuse_? Fuck you! Give me some credit! I coulda just stayed away, but no, I had to come back here and now five people are dead because they were dumb enough to trust me. Least if I'd bought it, one of the newbies could have taken over. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just get out outta here before-"  
  
"BECAUSE-" He realized he was shouting and seemed to run out of air as he sat back down. "Because I'm going to."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Tonight, the part of Faith will be played by Xander Lavelle Harris." He shrugged at her raised eyebrow - _Lavelle?_. "Like it matters now. In a minute I'm going to go downstairs, I'm going to trick Dawn into coming outside with me, then I'm going to knock her out, put her in the car and drive her as far and as fast as I can from Sunnydale. Leave the legion of superheroes to fight for themselves."   
  
Faith was completely puzzled now. "Oh man, B's gonna _flip_ if you-"  
  
"Where do you think my orders came from?" He glared at her. "Buffy wants Dawn safe... and me, I guess. No one's going to have time to save us mere mortals once the excrement hits the air conditioning. Which means it's time for you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get back in the game."  
  
"But it's just..." She was fumbling for words. "Do you know how fucking hard I've been trying to make things right? And then I... I just mess up again. It's like everything I touch just turns to shit and the harder I try the worse it gets, and I don't know how to... to..."  
  
Xander looked at her as she ran out of words, then let his gaze drop to the floor. When he spoke again his voice was completely void of emotion. "I've lived in this town all my life, Faith. Everything I've ever cared about is here. I had known Buffy less than 48 hours when she let one of my best friends get killed, did you know that?" He grimaced. "Of course you don't. I'm not sure even Buffy remembers. Willow probably does, but she and Jesse were never that tight. And besides, I was the one who staked him. It's been seven years and sometimes I still almost dial his number when something happens. But I just never let on, you know? What would be the point? Buffy did all she could. Just like she did all she could when the Anointed One tried to kill Willow, or when Angel killed Miss Calendar, when Drusilla killed Kendra, when you switched sides, or when Glory..." He got up and walked over to the window, parted the drapes and looked out over the ghost town that was Sunnydale. "Exactly one year ago today I put in new glass in this window and a new carpet on the floor. The day before we had shipped Willow off to England and I had no idea if I would ever see her again. The day after, we buried Tara. I didn't know what to do with the old carpet, it seemed wrong to just throw it in the trash with her blood on it... I think Buffy finally got rid of it. I couldn't. Everything went to hell and all I could do was put in new double glazing afterwards."  
  
The voice was still flat, but his hand shook as he bunched the curtain up in his fist. She had to say _something_. "From what Giles tells me, you did a little bit more than that."  
  
Xander shrugged. "Sure, OK, there was the whole saving the world. But that's just damage control, repairing something that should never have been broken to begin with. You wanna talk fuckups? Join the club. We always do it for the best reasons, and it always..." He tapped the floor with his shoe, an annoyed tone creeping into his voice. "There's a bulge in the carpet right here. I couldn't make it right again. Not completely."  
  
"So why are you telling _me_ all of this?" She hated that she knew the answer almost as much as the fact that it was working.  
  
He closed the curtains, returning the room to dusk, and turned back to look at her; his face a mask of pain. "Who else am I going to tell? I’ll be outta here in ten minutes. I can't even say goodbye to Willow or Anya. 24 hours from now everyone could be dead and if somehow the world doesn't end, I'll spend the next 60 years wondering what happened.” He took a deep breath and got in her face. "So I'm giving you a job, Faith. I don’t care what you need to tell yourself, but you're going to fight like hell to save them, you're going to make it through this and afterwards you’re going to look me up and tell me what happened. You can whine all you want up here, but I've seen you fight; if you're backed into a corner you're not gonna stop fighting as long as there's a breath left in you. And I'm backing you into _my_ corner."  
  
Voices, images, sensations. Some pulled her one way, some the other. _Oh for fuck’s sake_ , the voice she would like to pretend she could call a demon snorted. _Backing me? Like he could make something happen if I didn't want it to?..._ Faith thought about the last time they'd been in a bedroom together. _I could do anything to you right now, and you want me to. I can make you scream. I could make you die._ She had always wondered if she really meant that. He had come to her to help and she had...   
  
And so the other part of her looked into his one remaining eye and realized that he knew how powerless he was. He wasn't threatening her; he was begging. Exploded or not, she still had him by the balls here – and it was up to her what to do. She could do anything right now. So she told the not-demon it was just so she wouldn't have to watch him actually start blubbering, swallowed the lump in her throat and shook his hand.   
  
"Deal."  
  
It didn't make it all right. But it made it a little easier to breathe.


	9. They Who Hang Out In Cemeteries

**Chapter 9: They Who Hang Out In Cemeteries**  
 _Missing scene from "Chosen"._  
  
They didn’t know it at the time, at least not consciously, but it was a last goodbye. Maybe it was time they should have spent training or going over strategy, but then again, maybe they had some important reason for doing this. Or maybe they were just trying to come up with a reason to put off certain death by another hour. So as potentials, principals and guestages made the final preparations for the attack on the hellmouth, the long-timers decided to stretch their legs. And for reasons nobody wanted to say out loud, the empty streets of Sunnydale all seemed to lead to Restfield Cemetery.   
  
They wandered among the gravestones, unaccustomed to seeing them in the daylight, giving their respects to the people who had stayed in Sunnydale when all the ones still alive cleared out and stopping for a last talk with the ones who really mattered. The group thinned out as they moved along, Giles staying with Jenny, Willow with Tara, Buffy and Dawn with Joyce, and Xander with Jesse... until Faith found herself walking alone through the city of the dead. She had told herself she was going along as extra muscle – it looked like she was probably about to get herself killed for their sake, so she might as well get in on the action as soon as possible. But what was she doing here? There was nobody here she needed to talk to. Maybe she could have had a few words for Joyce, but what's the point, and besides with B and her sister there... no way in hell. As far as Faith was concerned, graveyards were hunting grounds and nothing more; her own mother’s funeral had been a quick, state-sponsored deal, she’d never bothered to visit the grave despite the occasional drunken promise to piss on it, and since then all her visits had been about killing things. She should be getting ready for the fight, not walking around here looking at huge crypts like –  
  
Oh.  
  
Him.  
  
 **WILKINS FAMILY CRYPT.** She stood there staring at the Mayor's grave, hands frozen in her pockets. Was this that cosmic irony thing people talk about? Trying to pretend she was part of the group, only to have _this_ shoved in her face? Fuck it. There was a battle coming up, she didn't have time for this. Besides, it wasn't like she was going to start chatting with few slabs of marble. That just wasn’t her. She had almost managed to turn away from the monument when she heard his voice.  
  
 _Nobody knows what you are. Not even you, little Miss Seen-it-all._  
  
"Who's there?" She whipped her head around, trying to find the source of the voice... then realized it wasn’t the First, or any Slayer visions, but just her memories playing tricks on her again. For all the difference that made. STOP it. This was probably the last place she should be visiting right now – hey, wicked idea: give them another reason to doubt you. Psycho killer visiting her evil dead boss, that’s definitely someone you want in your corner for the big fight. Why wasn't she walking away before someone saw her? It's not like a big demon being dead and gone was a bad thing, or like she... missed him or anything. Not like seeing him again the other night had made her feel like nothing else had done these last four years. Not like she could remember every single word he ever told her.  
  
 _I think of what you've done, what I know you will do... no father could be prouder._  
  
"You fucking liar", she muttered. "You didn’t care anymore than all the others. You just used me." So what was with the allergy? Faith blinked once, twice, then gave up and ran her sleeve across her eyes, sucking it up before she kicked the marble wall as hard as she could. "You fucking LIAR!"   
  
She was too upset to hear the approaching footsteps. "Uh... you know there's no one in there, right?" Faith spun around as Buffy spoke up from behind her. "I mean, I know it says ‘family crypt’, but it was the same guy all along... plus, we blew him up."  
  
Faith shot her a dark look. "You really sure you wanna be remindin' me of that, B?"  
  
"Faith, he was..."  
  
"Evil, I know. And evil is evil. Don’t ever change, right? Just another monster. World's better off without it." _I know you'll always have me, Faith. I'm the best, the most important friend you'll ever have._ "Bullshit. _Fucker._ "  
  
"What?"  
  
"Not you." Faith crouched down, grabbed a fistful of grass and dirt and hurled against the monument. She took a couple of deep breaths, steadying herself, trying to regain control of her emotions. The hell with it, they were gonna die soon. "You know, he came to me the other day. As The First. Woody says The First tells the truth sometimes."   
  
Buffy nodded reluctantly. "Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes."  
  
"Well, he told me two things: that he loved me, and that you're gonna get us all killed. So which is it? Whose side are we on, B? I mean, we're gonna open the Hellmouth, isn't that what you've been trying to stop all these years?"  
  
"Hey, I'm just winging it. That's all I've ever done." Buffy shrugged and squatted beside Faith. "You're the Slayer too, what do _you_ think? And don't roll your eyes like that. We're about to either change or end the world based on something I may have _dreamed_ , and I really want your opinion here."  
  
"Went along with your idea, didn'I? Which I guess means..." Faith leaned her head back, looking up at the sky. "You really wanna know what I think? I think it was all a big lie, Buffy. Everything... My whole life I thought there was just this one single person who seemed to really give a rat's ass about me. Not just as something to hit or hit on or have hit something, but ME. That's not an excuse, I mean he never held a gun to my head, but I woulda walked to hell and back for him. I was an idiot, but it still..." She looked at Buffy. "Let's not shit ourselves. I kill stuff. That's all I was ever good at, at least when I manage to kill the right stuff. That's why I'm here. Point where you want me and I'll go, I got your back and I'm gonna take a bunch of'em with me. But don't expect me to do your job."  
  
Buffy nodded slowly as she fiddled with something in the bag she had across her shoulders. For a while, no one said anything until Buffy broke the silence. "Did you ever hear how we got him?"  
  
"Yeah." Faith scrunched her face up in involuntary disgust. "You tricked him into the school and blew it up. Shitty way to kill someone if you ask me. "  
  
"OK, granted, not my most honorable slay ever, but... I mean, he was 70 feet long, we could never have beaten him. We had flamethrowers and they were useless. He was winning. Until I reminded him of what... what I did to you. That hurt him. He got stupid, and I killed him."  
  
Faith took this in. "Huh."  
  
"Don't ask me to not think it's weird, but... for what it's worth, you were his weak spot. I mean, he was still evil. I wanna stress that. But I think he really did... I mean, he gave everything up for you, that's..."  
  
"I get it, B." Damnit, she was not going to choke up in front of Buffy. No way. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.  
  
"Human weakness never goes away. You told me that." Buffy frowned. "I think. There was this whole dream thing..."  
  
"I remember." Faith spat, the loogie as red-tinged as her eyes. "Doesn’t sound very comforting right now though... weakness, I mean."   
  
"Nope. Which is why we have weapons. Like, uh, this one." Buffy reached into her bag and produced something that had been gathering dust in her weapons chest for years.  
  
Faith stared as the sunlight danced across the double blade. The blood had long since been cleaned off, and the knife looked just as deadly as it had on the day she first saw it. She still remembered unwrapping it, thinking it was the best gift anyone had ever given her. And all the shit that had followed. _This is a thing of beauty, boss._ It scared her how much she still thought so. "That's..." She swallowed. "That was mine."  
  
"You're about to get it back.". Buffy carefully grabbed the knife by its blade and offered it to the other girl, handle first.  
  
Faith was torn between wanting to grab it and wanting to back away. She shook her head. "And here was me thinking you were the smart one. What the hell makes you think this is a good idea?"  
  
"I guess because..." Buffy cocked her head, regarding the knife thoughtfully. "This isn't _The Wild Bunch_ , Faith. We're not going in there to die; we're going in there to win. It's not just my job, it's all of us...es... ours... you know what I mean. That's the whole point." She gestured around at the surrounding graves. "That's why we're all here right now: because we have something worth fighting for, because we had people who believed in us. Whether you and I think they should or not, the other girls trust you. But the only one who can decide if it's worth it to _you_... is you."  
  
Faith slowly reached out and took the knife in her right hand, feeling the way it molded itself to her palm as if it had been hand-crafted to fit no one but her. It was so perfectly balanced, so easy to tip either way. Sharp on all sides.  
  
 _The Ascension isn't just my day. It's yours too. Your day to blossom, to show the world what a powerful girl you are._  
  
"So anyway..." Buffy got to her feet. "I think we should get going. We only get to do this once, and it's not gonna be easy."  
  
Faith shrugged, still staring at the knife. "Who knows. Maybe it’s our day."  
  
"Yeah. Maybe." Buffy nodded, turned her back on Faith and walked away towards the others.   
  
Faith remained where she was for a few moments, watching her own reflection in the blade. She looked up at the grave and nodded slowly to herself. Then she stood up, stuck the knife in her belt, spat in the dirt and strode off to save the world.


	10. I Can Drive 55

**Epilogue: I Can Drive 55**  
  
 _Now it's dark._  
  
She'd been staring out the window at the passing desert for hours, thinking about Nothing, and she wasn't really sure at what point the sun went down and the only thing she could see was her own reflection in the glass. The half-shocked chatter and occasional moans of pain all around had mostly faded into snores over the low rumble of the engine; it had been a very long day.   
  
Buffy eased herself out from under Dawn, asleep on her lap, and walked through the bus, careful not to step on anyone's feet. It was harder than it sounds, with sleeping poten... Slayers everywhere and the bus occasionally hitting a pot hole, but she made it to the front of the bus without waking anyone up.  
  
"Hey. Is this thing on?" Tapping the DO NOT SPEAK TO DRIVER sign.  
  
Faith kept her eyes on the road as she casually took one hand off the wheel, grabbed the sign and snapped it in half. "Nah. New rules. That's what we do now, right? Change the world?"  
  
A crooked smile from Buffy. "Well, I thought since you're sticking to the old speed limit, maybe it was part of your reformation..."  
  
"Boring, I know. But..." Faith put a little extra pressure on the gas pedal and the engine took on a slightly unhappy grinding sound; she quickly eased off. "Don't think this piece of junk could take much more. And me being an escaped murderer without a license... might not be a good idea to get pulled over. Besides, shouldn't you be asleep with the rest?"  
  
"Wish I could." Buffy carefully sat down on the seat beside the driver's seat, wincing, a hand on her belly.  
  
Faith shot her a sideways glance. "You OK?"   
  
"I will be."  
  
Faith left that hanging just a little too long. "I'm not just talking about the gutwound."  
  
"I know." Deep breath. "Slayer healing. Look, maybe I should leave you to -"  
  
"Tell you what," Faith pinched the bridge of her nose. "I've been staring at a white line for a couple of hours now. If you can't sleep, I could use someone to smack me if I zone out. Wouldn't want to wrap your new army around a telephone pole or something."  
  
"They're not... Sure."  
  
They sat for a while, staring out at the white line ahead, the headlights making it shine in the surrounding darkness.  
  
"So where are we going, B?"  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I dunno. We'll make something up. New rules, remember? Unknown future rolling towards us, second star on the right..."  
  
"Going by the last roadsign, we're headed to Phoenix."  
  
"...Oh." Buffy paused. "Well, as good a place to start as any, I guess."  
  
The schoolbus rolled along the dark desert road, following a white line along the same road once walked by settlers headed the other way, sticking to the speed limit. Up ahead, Buffy and Faith sat in silence. Change comes in small steps... but it keeps coming.


End file.
